


Layers

by a_loquita



Category: Bones
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-13
Updated: 2009-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_loquita/pseuds/a_loquita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Booth character study- his thoughts about duty and honor and a certain forensic anthropologist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Layers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to la_tante for her beta work on this.

Booth steps out of the shower onto the bathmat, which as he drips down onto it, he realizes probably should have been thrown in the wash. Like maybe 2 weeks ago.

He reaches for the towel, quickly dries off, then wraps it around his waist.

Steam from the shower has fogged the mirror, and that usually annoys him, but not today. Because today he really doesn't want to look at himself, not after yesterday.

In the dark bedroom-he never bothered to turn on a lamp and the gloomy overcast day isn't lending any outside assist-he has only enough light to make out the general shapes of the clothing in the drawers. But he manages.

The boxers, black with chili peppers on them, go on first. Then he sits on the bed to pull on blue polka dot socks. With the first layer in place- the most important one because few had gotten this far in recent years- he starts to feel he might be able to face the day and face himself.

He leaves those thoughts behind on the bed and crosses to the closet, trying to decide between a white dress shirt or a white dress shirt. Or maybe a white dress shirt?

While he's flipping through the hangers, Dave Pierson resurfaces from memory. Again. For the thirteenth time since yesterday. And that's only the recent score, he doesn't want to consider the lifetime stats.

Dave was a buddy from back in their military days. Good guy, smart, a capable solider. Then he met a girl, one who happened to be under his command. They'd tried to keep it quiet for a while, but those types of secrets inevitably come to light, and when they do, terrible things happen. Monumentally terrible things. In Dave's case, he was discharged, had a hard time finding a job, then the fallout led to problems in the relationship, and he eventually lost the girl too.

Booth pulls on his shirt and buttons the cuffs before he does the rest up the front. There's always something about the first 5 minutes of wearing a newly starched shirt that appeals to him, maybe because it never looks as nice after that, too prone to recording every movement with another wrinkle.

Suit pants are next, a pair that Brennan once complimented him on. And that's when Booth finally grumbles aloud to himself. It's not because the zipper got stuck for a moment, but because he isn't supposed to be thinking about her. About wearing something she likes. Especially as he's getting dressed. He's not supposed to be thinking about anything remotely similar to what Dave and other guys like Dave think about when they look at a woman they work with, are partnered with, in a professional setting.

Not like yesterday.

Booth sits on the bed again and wipes a hand over his face. He knows what he has to do: put on his Men in Black suit, like armor, and go into work as if yesterday never happened.

He stands and puts on his belt in front of the mirror. The buckle mocks up at Booth that when it comes to certain things, certain irritatingly brilliant forensic anthropologists, cocky is the last thing he is. Then finally the jacket goes on. He buttons it and smoothes his hands down the front to make sure everything is all in its place.

If his left hand pauses at the breast pocket, he refuses to acknowledge it. The place where she put a handkerchief yesterday. The spot where she'd lingered, just one second too long. And he'd known.

Instead Booth reaches for his keys, wallet, and cell. He takes a deep breath, ready to put yesterday behind him and face a new day.


End file.
